Saturday, January 22, 2011


(for those of you that happen to read my blog via Facebook post - I have no idea when this will choose to import to Facebook. I'm writing this blog late at night on Friday, setting it to post around the time of my mom's services Saturday afternoon)

First things first - we (and by "we" I mean my dad) have set up a donation page at Susan G Komen where donations for the cure can be made in my mom's name. If you haven't already made a donation, I'm going to be super bold here and request that you consider doing so. It can be for any amount and even small amounts add up. If you're reading this from my blog, you can click my mom's picture on the sidebar to the right. Or you can click right here.

Second - at the bottom of this post will be the video/slide show dealie I made for the services on Saturday. You can skip reading all this in the middle and just look at the movie, but I'm not posting it til the end. So there. (Imagine me sticking out my tongue like a little kid.)

Third... well... I haven't decided yet (I know... I know... running out of time) if I'll speak at my mom's service. I sort of want to and sort of don't. I hate public speaking. I don't even like talking in front of 7 people that I know. Speaking in front of a large group of people that I loosely know, and at my mom's memorial service... well I don't know if I can pull it off. But if I were going to speak, I think this is what I might say (you should imagine a whole lot of pausing, no typing, staring off in to space, typing random things, deleting it all and starting again):

There isn't much I didn't say to my mom before she passed - no things I never got around to saying, no little regrets of things I didn't do or anything like that. So this won't be about things I wish had done. As you heard from the chaplain and will see in the pictures, my mom loved to travel. She loved adventure and seeing new things and sharing memories of those travels with others. I wanted to share a story of one of those travels – if my mom were sitting here right now, she’d probably start to giggle, knowing what I was about to say. So mom, as promised… let’s talk about Anne Frank.

Some time in the late 80s, early 90s, my dad was sent to fight in the first Gulf War while we were stationed in Germany. My granny came to live with us while he was gone. I don't remember all the details of how this all came to be, but some how the three of us ended up on a nice chartered bus with a ton of other people from our base headed to Holland for what I think was a weekend trip.
During that trip, we got to do and see a lot of really amazing things. We stayed at a host families house, we went to the Keukenhof, we explored Amsterdam (we even got lost at one point... she so kindly point out the people doing drugs in the alley and told me that's what would happen to me if I ever did drugs - point made) and had a truly fantastic time.

There's one thing, however, that we didn't get to do. Perhaps you're familiar with another young girl named Anne Frank. Maybe you remember that her family hid from the Nazi's in a house in where? Oh yeah. Amsterdam. Where we WERE. Of course, I had just read the book for school, and I wanted to go tour the house. But... we didn't. The day before we left on our trip, my mom smashed her foot at work, breaking the pinkie toe. That and the shocking fact that my granny was well, old, equaled no Anne Frank's house for us. This was a Very. Big. Deal.

Well, to be honest, I’m not sure at the time it was such a huge deal. I know as I got older, I started teasing her about it more and more. In fact, I promised to her on many occasions that I’d tell just this story on just this day. I might not get back to Europe til I'm 80 years old, but I'll get back and I’ll climb up that narrow ladder (or so I’m told it’s narrow – did I also mention that my mom had been to Amsterdam before and had already toured Anne Frank’s house?) and probably shrug my shoulders and think “wow….this really wasn’t a big deal at all.” I will probably nip a little piece of mom to take with me….and leave her outside while I go in.

So, if I choose to talk at her services, I'll probably share that story. And she'd totally laugh. :)

As promised - here's the link to the movie :)

1 comment:

  1. Absolutely beautiful. Both your words and the video. And she's beautiful, as are you (have you noticed you two kind of look alike?). Big hugs to you and your beautiful family.